


Consume

by irishlullaby13



Series: Orally Fixated Abbie [3]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chocolate Sauce, F/M, Hand Feeding, Ice Cream, Oral Fixation, Pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:17:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6860362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie swallowed hard and moistened her lips before walking into the kitchen, fists clenched loosely at her sides.  Crane was concentrating on drizzling caramel over a tart he had placed on a small plate.  He seemed... at ease.  That was good.  That was very good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consume

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry. I regret nothing.

“What have I told you?” Jenny asked. The barely suppressed smirk on her lips betrayed her scolding tone. “Focus on the words not the mouth.”

“Yeah, tried that a few times and it did not go as anticipated,” Abbie groused. On the plus side, she had her fair share of fantasies that involved her bent over the table at the Archives, getting a history lesson she would not soon forget.

_No, no_ , she reminded herself. That was not a “plus.” That was bad. _This_ was bad. This would be something that would be very awkward until they ignored it enough to pretend it didn't happen.

Jenny snapped her fingers in front of Abbie's face. Abbie startled and swatted at Jenny's hand. “ _This_ has gotten out of control,” Jenny said. “You have got to tell him.”

Abbie peered up at Jenny and smiled wryly. “Hey Crane,” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Yeah, about what just happened... I got a little confused and just thought I was having another fantasy about you fucking my brains out. _I'm sorry_ , I meant to just keep it all in my head. Just consider it a quick introduction to sex in the 21st century. Don't think anything about it.” She tilted her head. “So, tell me Jen, you think that will put his mind at ease about the fact I just accosted him in the kitchen?”

“Fair point,” Jenny replied. “ _But_ , I meant tell him how you feel. Not that you've been having nasty fantasies about him.” She rolled what she said over in her mind then nodded, “Though the nasty fantasies part might actually be a good thing to admit as well. But what did you do besides kiss him? He looked a little too worked up for that to be all that happened.”

Abbie closed her eyes and felt her face warm. “I _may have_ licked and sucked tart filling off of his fingers and hands,” she admitted tersely. “ _Both_ of his hands.”

Jenny stared at Abbie for a long moment then burst out laughing. “Welcome to the 21st century indeed!”

“It's not funny, Jenny,” Abbie groaned. “I seriously, _seriously_ , overstepped a boundary.” She hid her face in her hands and sighed heavily. “I'm a terrible person, Jenny. He's not fully acculturated, he is literally doing all this nice stuff for me to 'earn his keep,' and... I just... I unintentionally took advantage of him.”

Jenny sat beside Abbie on the bed and put an arm around her shoulders. “ _Or_ , what if he's had feelings for you but just didn't know how to tell you or if you felt the same?”

Abbie sucked in a deep breath. “We're going to have to talk about this aren't we?” Abbie said flatly. Jenny nodded. After a moment, Abbie arched an eyebrow at Jenny. “Not that I'm not grateful for the interruption but... why did you come over anyway?”

“Crane called to let me and Joe know he was making his apple tarts and that we would need to come over if we wanted to get some before you ate them all, like last time,” Jenny provided. “Joe was at work so... I figured pop over and wait for them to get done. _But_ since you and Crane obviously have a lot to talk about, all I will say is... save me and Joe at least one a piece and I will be over to get them around noon tomorrow. _Just in case_ the conversation goes really well.”

“Thanks, Jen,” Abbie drawled. “Worst case scenario, Crane might be knocking at the cabin door tonight looking for a new place to live.” At Jenny's confused look, Abbie added, “Because he feels uncomfortable staying here.”

Once Jenny left, Abbie remained holed up in her room for at least an hour, pacing and wondering what to say that wouldn't chase Crane away. Finally she knew she couldn't put it off any longer, took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

  
#  


Abbie swallowed hard and moistened her lips before walking into the kitchen, fists clenched loosely at her sides. Crane was concentrating on drizzling caramel over a tart he had placed on a small plate. He seemed... at ease. That was good. That was very good.

He glanced up as she walked in. “Ah,” he said cheerfully. “I was making preparations to fetch you, Lieutenant. The first batch has cooled enough that they are safe for consumption _a la mode_.”

Abbie tried not to read too much in his tone as he said _a la mode_ or the alluring glimmer in his eyes. He was trying to entice her into tasting his tart, she told herself. He was not trying to entice her into drizzling the chocolate and caramel on her naked skin and have him lick it off. Damn, Jenny was right. This _had_ gotten out of control.

Crane whirled around to pull a carton of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. He retrieved the ice cream scoop and placed a heap of ice cream next to the tart.

Abbie felt herself relax as Crane dragged her stool from earlier to the island and offered his hand to assist her onto the seat. She climbed onto the stool and reached for the plate. The treat had been lightly dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon, drizzled with both chocolate and caramel. It looked delicious, like almost everything Crane made. 

Maybe they wouldn't have to have a long conversation after all... She jumped slightly when Crane playfully swatted her hands with a spoon.

She felt her face warm as she drew her hands back toward herself. She tried to squash down the things that popped into her head at the innocent gesture—most of them involved her calling him _Mister_ Crane or _Professor_ Crane and history. Drawing in a deep breath she reminded herself that she did not need to be having those kind of thoughts about him. Especially when she was about to be apologizing for having them.

Crane scooped up a helping of ice cream and tart with his spoon. He leaned close and put the spoon to her lips. “Taste it and tell me it would not make your precious Pioneer Woman envious.”

Abbie closed her eyes and opened her mouth. She hummed appreciatively as she tasted the warm sweetness of the tart accompanied with the chocolate, caramel, and cool of the ice cream. “I think it would make whoever invented apple pie jealous,” Abbie said in a low groan.

She opened her eyes and was taken aback by Crane's focus being on her mouth. The glimmer in his eyes was not that of a man who had been perturbed by her forward advances from earlier. It was the look of a man who wanted it to happen again. She watched his face as he used one hand to lightly tilt her chin and the other to feed her a second bite.

Nope, nope... this had to be a fantasy, Abbie told herself as her eyes fluttered closed. She opened her mouth for a third bite. There was no way he was thinking about--

Instead of getting a spoonful of apple tart and ice cream, she got a mouthful of Crane. A soft noise came from the back of her throat as she clasped her fingers behind his neck, holding him there as she dove into the kiss. His mouth was warm and inviting, his beard tickled her chin. 

She was going to be pissed if this was just another fantasy.

When Crane pulled away, Abbie sucked in a breath. She just knew, any second now, she was going to pull herself back to reality and he would probably be on the other side of the kitchen getting more tarts out of the oven while she checked out his ass.

Much to her surprise, instead of snapping out of a fantasy, his lips lightly brushed hers again. She responded in kind. They played the game of tentatively responding to each other's feathery kisses for several moments before Crane dove right in again, taking full possession of her mouth. Abbie grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him in front of her, winding her legs around him.

Crane gently took her face in his hands as he parted their lips again. He pulled back to slowly look over her face, lingering on her lips. Abbie drew in a deep breath. “Is this real or not?” she asked, almost breathless. Amusement danced in his eyes. “I'm only asking because last time I thought it was a fantasy and it turned out to be real.”

“I assure you, Lieutenant, this is very real,” Crane murmured. He peppered kissed along her brow, the tip of her nose, and jaw.

Her breath hitched in her throat. That sounded suspiciously like something the Crane in her fantasies would say to try and convince her it wasn't a fantasy. Then again, it was only such because it _was_ something the real Crane would say. “Crane, I...”

“I love you,” Crane interrupted, rendering her speechless. There was an ache... a yearning in his eyes that hoped she felt the same way.

Abbie had to fight back the tears at hearing his admission. She brushed his hair way from his eyes, trailed her fingers down his cheeks.

While she did feel the same, it certainly didn't excuse her behaviour from earlier... no matter how much he had liked it. She wound the strings of his shirt around her fingers loosely then trailed her fingertips along the edge of the gap that always allotted her a tiny glimpse of his chest. “I want to... apologize for... what I did earlier.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she put a finger over his lips. “Let me finish. Please?”

Ichabod's eyes fluttered closed and he briefly nodded his head to indicate his willingness to wait. He gathered her hand in both of his and placed a light kiss on the pad of her finger. Abbie almost lost track of what she was going to say and licked her lips hungrily. She shook her head to clear it and cleared her throat.

“The truth is... I... have... a lot... and I do mean _a lot_ of thoughts about you that... are not exactly platonic,” Abbie admitted slowly. This was mostly due to the fact she really wanted to just grab his face and kiss him, then drag him to his room—or hell maybe the living room—and have her way with him. _Stop it Mills_ , she silently scolded herself. “And... I... just... inadvertently... got what was real and what was in my head... mixed up. But I don't want you to think it's all just... lust and... ten thousand ways to get laid.”

Amusement sparkled in his eyes at that. Abbie closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. Not that they did any good when he was looking at her like he was the long lost descendant of a Disney princess. But she continued on nonetheless. “Thing is... _I do_ feel the same. And... I'm sorry if... what I did made you uncomfortable or... anything. Because that's the last thing I want to do. Can you forgive me? _Will you_ forgive me?”

“Always,” Crane said softly. “But only if you can forgive me for having similar thoughts of you.”

Abbie's eyebrows arched in surprise. He'd had dirty thoughts about her too? Come to think of it, she had caught him looking at her a certain way numerous times—and to be honest a few times it had been what instigated some of her dirtier thoughts. But she had always told herself that it had nothing to do with him being attracted to her. 

She dragged his mouth to hers and kissed him deeply. Oh she could definitely forgive him for having them. And yes she'd had fantasies about that too... and herself walking into his room to find him doing something about said thoughts and then her helping him take care of the issue that had arisen.

Those had helped her get some sleep at night quite a few times actually.

Abbie became aware of a sudden weightlessness to herself and realized Ichabod had picked her up off of the stool, his fingers digging into her ass as he carried her through the laundry room. She wrapped her legs around his waist as they entered his room.

Once he deposited her on the bed they made quick work of each other's clothes and were soon little more than a tangle of limbs on top of the duvet. Hands stroked and massaged skin, tangled into hair. Their mouths moved against each other, not so much taking time to taste the other but to devour the other.

His skin was wonderfully hot under her hands. It was all she had ever dreamed of and wanted. It felt like every moment she had been driven to distraction by him had led to them fitting against each other like two pieces of the same puzzle. The bed groaned in protest as they moved together.

Ichabod cradled her face in both of his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her bottom lip. “Abbie,” he whispered softly. “Do you think it's time we both stopped dreaming?”

Abbie startled and found herself still in the kitchen, still seated on the stool. But, Ichabod _did_ have her face in his hands. She wasn't exactly sure how much of her conversation had actually been real. She squeezed her eyes shut and let herself laugh softly. One thing was for sure, she had it bad... real bad.

Had she even apologized for earlier? Had he kissed her? Had he really said he loved her? Or had all of that just been in her head too?

Her face warmed and she looked down at the plate of apple tart a la mode. Two bites were missing. That much had been real. “Sorry... I just...”

“It was a simple query, Lieutenant,” Ichabod murmured. “I thought, perhaps, you would enjoy continuing our kiss elsewhere instead of getting lost in a dream.”

“Did I... apologize for earlier?” Abbie asked. 

He shook his head gently. “But I endeavour to think there are far better things to do than to apologize for something that was quite welcome.”

“Oh?” Abbie asked. “Like what?”

His eyes darkened and a small smirk pulled at he corner of his lips as he leaned in close. “Wouldn't you like to know, Lieutenant?” he asked in that low desire-ridden tone he usually reserved for describing a tasty treat.

Abbie couldn't help but laugh. She couldn't help but think things had somehow come full circle. Although he had only said it in one of her many fantasies, now he was saying it in reality. And she had absolutely no doubt it was reality. Instead of trying to be coy and flirt back, she grasped his shirt and pulled him closer. “You better believe I want to know.”


End file.
